


Inherently Evil

by mirrormirrorlove



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Chamber of Secrets, Curiosity, Dark Mark, Evil, F/M, Falling In Love, Family, Friends to Lovers, Hogwarts, Hope, Horcruxes, Magic, Mudblood, No redemption, Origin Story, Orphans, Other, Potions, Snakes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-28 01:00:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10060589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirrormirrorlove/pseuds/mirrormirrorlove
Summary: John Locke thought all men were inherently good.Thomas Hobbes thought all men were inherently evil.It's quite funny how wrong John Locke truly was.





	

With a loud crash, I shoot up, wide awake.  _ No not tonight, please it cannot be tonight,  _ I uselessly think. I hear the glass of bottles and dishes fall and break, with angry screams in the background.  His roaring and his groaning is unbearable to concentrate on. I force my mind to recall the reading I did just this morning from  Magical Drafts and Potions .  _ The pepperup can be used to cure colds and warm the recipient up…  _ With a thundering clap, I hear him slowly thump his way up the steps, shouting “Annie! You rotten girl!”... _ slowly crush the mandrake roots with only the tip of your blade…  _ His footsteps are now echoing closer as he begins to bang on my door “Annie! Come out you freak! You can never hide from me!”...  _ once your mandrake roots are completed begin to grind the bicorn horn and stir counterclockwise four times... _ The door becomes forced open breaking down the entire wooden thing itself. I see his tall figure looming over me “No more of this magic for you young girl,” he utters as his hand raises up. “I told Kiera to take all of the wretched nonsense out of this house and as she is no longer able to, I will”... _ next you quickly stir in the octopus powder in order to avoid all possible eruptions... _ The next screams I hear are only my own.

I wake up the next morning shortly after dawn. As quietly as I can, I gather all of my things and quickly organize them into a trunk. I dress and then take my wand whispering _Scomparire, a_ spell I have learned from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1, and slowly the bruises and cuts I received last night fade away. I tiptoed my way down the stairs careful not to rise my father who is now passed out the floor after his night drinking expedition. He should not wake for at least the next several hours and by then I will be far off in a place where he will never again be able to hurt me.  I leave a note on the refrigerator saying that I have gone out to buy some milk.  
Leaving behind my small shredding childhood home, I start walking the three miles to the nearest bus stop. At the bus stop, I pay with the money I discreetly have been stealing for the past few weeks from my father’s wallet and ride all the way to kings cross station. Entering platform nine and three quarters, after emerging from the barrier I read all about, I bask in the wonder of the owls flying and families chattering and laughing.  
Not quite enjoying watching complete and happy families say their goodbyes, I enter the train and search for a compartment where I can maybe spend the journey reading by myself. I soon find a rather empty compartment with only a pale boy with dark brown hair who looks the same age as myself.  
“May I sit here?” I politely ask while already entering. Instead of answering he simply stares at me as if he is judging my entire being and then gives a simple nod. He continues staring at me, however, this time I notice him looking at the bruise newly forming on my neck. Embarrassed I again whisper _Scomparire_ and watch it disappear. Thinking the boy to feel pity at noticing my injury, I look up surprised at his eyes filled with greedy wonder.  
“You know magic?” He asks.  
“Only what I have read from the schoolbooks I got.”  
“Is this your first year?”  
“Yes, and you?”  
The boy becomes quiet as we turn to see a couple of older boys barge into the compartment. “Get out” one tells us lazily as he goes to sit down while the other boys laugh at an animated story one of them is telling.  
“No we were here first.” The boy I was with smoothly exclaims.  
“Look here firsties,” he begins talking much louder than before and causing the other boys to halt their conversation, “you need to learn respect if you plan on coming to the school. Now I will not ask you again, leave.”  
“We will not.” The boy with me states with a hard look in his eye.  
“Come on Zabini, they are probably just good for nothing Hufflepuffs, let's just find somewhere where we will not be contaminated with impure blood.” Another older boy suggests.  
However, Zabini stayed where he was “No Crabbe we will not go, we will not find somewhere else. We will teach these _mudbloods_ that there is a reason you should not mess with the Slytherins.”  
Just as he raises his wand toward us, all of the sudden he drops his wand and uses both of hands to clutch his head. His face pales as he screams in agony. He begins to violently shake. “Let's get out of here!” the boys proclaim and they leave while dragging the fallen boy off with them.

“Oh my goodness! What just happened?” I ask as I only then look towards the boy who continued to focus on the spot Zabini just left with a look of intense concentration. “Was that you?”  
The boy finally looked, as if remembering that someone else was still with him.  
“I can make people hurt, if I want them to. I can make bad things happen to them” He responded with complete casualty  
“Well that was brilliant” I told him honestly “You must teach me that one day.”  
That statement caused him to smile and I realized that was the first smile I ever saw him make. He looks awfully nice while smiling.  
“I am Annabelle, by the way, Annabelle Dyson.”  
“Tom” The boy responded after a moment of hesitation “Tom Riddle”  
“What do you think those boys meant by impure blood? I read that mudblood is a terrible term for someone who has only non-magical parents, but my mother was a witch”  
“My father is a wizard”  
“And your mother?”  
“My mother is dead.” Tom spat bitterly  
“I wish my father was dead, he makes me understand why those boys did not wish to be associated with impure blood.”  
“Non-magicals in general, they should be the ones to learn respect.”  
I nod as I heard the older boy's words echo in my ears, glad that I at least made a friend.


End file.
